Three extra weeks of breaking up the bickering. Three extra weeks of packing snacks and schlepping to the park, the zoo, the aquarium, and the children's museum (which is lovely, but I swear it always smells a little like poop). Three extra weeks of not getting any time for myself.
Three.
Extra.
Weeks.
I am craving my routine, a quiet(er) house, and a little break in the pressure to keep these kids busy. Camp Mental Momma is coming to an end soon, closed until next year. We don't have a theme song, but I'll be doing a little dance anyway.
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